#so you get Shiny Wake instead

[fierykitten2]

Huh so that’s why Shiny Wake isn’t available in Pokémon Scarlet - it got lost in Big Blue. I wouldn’t complain to be fair, it gets to listen to this

(Shiny Wake is not to scale. Unless it ate a shit tonne of Herba Mystica or whatever happened to the Titanic Loyal Three. Shiny Wake is big but it’s not that big although it is definitely blue)

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[yukioos]

hii could i request something where you and megumi are married and one day you just call him fushiguro instead of his name or any nicknames

accidentally calling husband megumi by his last name

the sunlight shined bright in your face, causing you to squint but slowly open your eyes, rubbing them with your hand. your body was enveloped in megumi’s warm and comforting hold. a smile crept its way onto your face, and a small piece of metal was cold against your stomach, his ring.

you glanced back to see his peaceful sleeping face. he looked beautiful with his soft, shiny skin and long eyelashes. you leaned over to gently kiss his nose before carefully removing his arms from your body, trying to stifle your giggles when you heard soft grumbles from him.

when you stood up from bed, you took another look at your husband, who now had his arms on the side of the bed where you were. your heart tinged with a bit of sadness, feeling guilty for leaving him even for a few minutes. you tiptoed down the stairs, trying not to wake up megumi as you looked through the cabinets in your kitchen.

there were no cups. did he put them onto the highest shelf again?

you glanced up and sighed, seeing clear glasses and colorful, shiny glasses on the very top of the cabinet. you sighed, knowing it would be difficult to get the glass without megumi’s help, but he was sleeping.

you tapped your foot against the wooden floor impatiently, crossing your arms until you heard footsteps walking down the stairs. turning your head, you smiled at his messy hair and spoke, “sorry, fushiguro, i didn’t mean to wake you up.”

megumi stopped in his tracks, staring at you from the bottom of the stairs. he still appeared sleepy, and now a pout was on his face. he grumbled, “fushiguro?” his eyebrows were pinched together, and he couldn’t stop looking between you and the ground.

you tilted your head, confused at why he suddenly seemed so upset. he stalked closer to you, grabbing a cup from above you, and murmured, “fushiguro’s our last name. i’m only megumi to you,” he paused, mumbling, “or nicknames, too.”

you apologized, cheeks warming up as he filled up your cup for you, “oh, sorry, megs! forgot about all your other nicknames for a second.”

he gave you your cup, and after, led you back upstairs. once the two of you climbed back in bed, he rested his head in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist. he placed a soft kiss on your neck, then lifted himself to kiss your lips.

you suddenly felt your ring being twisted and turned by megumi, who you felt softly smiling into your neck. in just a couple of minutes, the feeling would stop, and megumi would only be breathing in silence.

hope this seems accurate! i was struggling with which color to make his name, dark blue or purple

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

So, pack up your car, put a hand in your heart, sing what ever you feel, be wherever you are

We ain't angry at you love. ⋆·˚ ༘ *

The pain of the neglected soul. Under the heavy mood lingering in the manor. An architectural design that screams wealth but is never wealthy with love and laughter. well, at least not to the second youngest child of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy, the most powerful man in Gotham City.

Being a product of a mistake between an infamous prostitute and a well-known, almost "celebrity"-like man was not really an ideal life. Being shunned away by the woman who you call Mom, who's supposed to whisper sweet words to you and rock your fragile body back and forth to ease you of whatever you feel bad about, instead shoves you into the arms of an unknown man who's your supposed father. Yeah, that sucks.You've always adored your mom. Despite the horrible words she casually whispers to you - "you ruined me, kid"—you turn a blind eye to her actions and act deaf to her cruel words and instead pretend that she's the mom who loves you and adores you just as much as you do for her. Because it was better. It just was. Your brain can't really process the fact that your abusive mother can be abusive. No, not when she was the one who carried you for 273 days, birthed you, and gave you your name. A 5-year-old's brain can't possibly carry the thought of having that same woman hate you. So even when it was your birthday, you waited for her all day to come home and give you kisses and maybe a birthday cupcake or present. just for once, she comes home drunk, messy, and dizzy with a man on her arms while laughing feverishly. It crazy to think that was the most happiest you've seen her; she was always scowling when she was with you. Strange. Even so you greet her with a hug. "Momma, I've been waiting for you all day—" she cuts you off and tells you to get away from her and calls you this strange name "annoying" huh. Wonder what that means. And for the next hours you spend your birthday alone, in your bedroom. Awake and hungry. But it doesn't matter at least mom came home! Sometimes she doesn't even come home for a few days, but she came home today! That means she must love you. Only for a few days she stays at home with the strange man she brought home on the day of your birthday. It doesn't bother you, it was normal after all. She always do this and then after a few days the man's gone. Yeah, this is just temporary. You say as you clean the house full of dirty clothes and empty alcohol bottles. And then one night the strange man is yelling at your mom; screams filled the tiny apartment with smashing sounds of bottles echoing around the room. You're furious, and you want to defend the woman who you oh so lovingly call "mother" You push the man away, and it angers him. With his bloodshot eyes, he grabbed the bottle and smashed it at the side of your tiny head. You soon wake up in a large room with bright lights and thick white walls. Soon you find out that you're in a hospital; its so cool, it's the size of your living room! Maybe even bigger… Moments later you found out that your mother gave you up to some unknown man who is to be called your "father.". You thrash and scream against the nurse's hold and scream for your mommy, yet she never came.A strange man came and introduced himself. He said he was "Alfred" and said from now on he will take care of you. That's silly because no one in your entire life has had someone take care of you. Soon he drives you to a gloomy big house with lots of statues as Alfred proceeds to tell you that this will be your new home now. Different portraits adorn the walls, and shiny pottery and impressive works of art fill the house. Alfred soon introduced you to your father, Bruce Wayne. Now this is where it all starts. With your new home, hope sparked through your heart, and you believed that somehow, someway, maybe you'll be able to get the love that you have always longed for, yearned for, waited for.

Wrong.

Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, the most powerful man of Gotham, the heartthrob, the Batman, but never the father of y/n l/n. He doesn't even know you. Doesn't even try to acknowledge you and your hard work, desperate to try anything to make him pay attention to you. To give you the attention you crave and yearn for ever since you arrived at the comfort of his home. You weren't stupid. You knew who he was and his nightly activities. You understood. But what hurts was that despite this, he managed to give every. Single. One. Of his children, attention except you. Was it because you weren't like them? Was it because you didn't fight bad guys for a hobby? Or was it because he never deemed you worthy of his time? Why? Were all the things the kids and big adults whispered behind your back true? That you were a child of a whore and you were bound to become one too over a matter of time? Was it true you'll never compare to your siblings? Being compared to your siblings, who had so much talent and had their own special abilities that yours can't compare to, was draining—and partially true. Your little ballet classes can never impress bruce over his other children's combat skills, multilingual abilities, and genius calculations. And you learned to accept that over the years as you grew up.

Richard grayson, dick, the loving big brother, the family guy. Maybe he was a good guy. After all, he managed to acknowledge you for about 6 seconds one time! He even asked you about your ballet classes! Though that was only to distract his self before Damian came. Always the big brother and Lil brother duo! .. Despite being busy with being a full-time cop and a vigilante, he still makes time for family, the ones he considers as family. Not you, never you. Who were you kidding? Dick is the star of the show, and you're just another side character in his main character life! Just a plain, old, boring bystander. That's all you will ever be to little Richard Grayson's glam life story.

Jason todd was different. He was known as someone who was brutal and full of anger. So it was no problem for him to shove you and tell you off. He had no conscience in telling you to go away, and you liked that. You like the fact that at least he had the decency to not give you false hope. Jason todd hates you, and you know it. Jason todd is jealous of your normalcy and how oblivious you are to the danger of the world. In his eyes, you were his replacement; looking at you makes the green monster of envy crawl out of him and take his anger out on you. The way you are so vulnerable stirs something up inside of him, and he realizes that your eyes look just like his when he was full of wonder and innocence. It made him restless and irritated. It reminded him of his mistakes, foolishness, and those memories he buried deep inside his mind to save him from countless nightmares he desperately ran away from.

Timothy Drake, the genius Robin, the hero by choice, the prodigy son. You would be lying if you said that you weren't jealous of Tim at all. I mean, look at him! He's a genius, a hero, a heartthrob, and a role model to several youths of Gotham. He was exactly like Bruce, and I mean exactly like Bruce. His life revolved around solving crimes, fighting bad guys, acing all of his tests, and coffee. Anything was more important other than you. Sure! He has time to cuddle with his family for movie night (without you, of course) but never has the time to play video games with you. Everything seemed to send thrills to his veins and spark an interest in him except your very existence. If you were just a mere bystander in Dick's story, you weren't even in Tim's!

Cassandra. The girl of the family. You have always envied her. Not only was she the only girl of the family and doted on by every single one of your brothers, but you and she also shared the same interest. What's even more infuriating was that she didn't even have to try. She didn't have to beg countless times to have anyone attend her performances because they were all there. Even Jason, who hid in the shadows. They were all there to support her and show her the love you have always asked for, begged for. She swooned all of them with her dancing, and you can't help that maybe her hands are more gentle, maybe her feet are more pointed, maybe her posture is more straight than yours, maybe she's prettier than you, maybe she's more worth than you.

And finally. Damian al Ghul Wayne. The youngest son, the baby brother, the scarred child loved by his family. When Damian came into the manor, you were thrilled. You thought that maybe you and he could bond over the same trauma. Maybe finally someone can understand you.You thought wrong again. Damian thought you were weak and a disgrace to the bloodline of the Wayne family clan. He called you thousands of cruel names and insulted you whenever he had the chance to. He always belittled you and showed you no mercy, going as far as to drag the blade of his sword across your neck, drawing blood, just for him to cruelly laugh in your face and tell you that you are being dramatic. You forgave him. You were a good kid. Right? So why is it that a kid who made thousands of innocent lives bleed through his sword is sitting with his father—your father—on the couch, sleeping soundly on his chest? It's not fair.

They were never fair.

As Dick was checking the CCTV footage of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage—about 2 weeks ago—of a person packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates; it's impossible. Unless…Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed in on the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled, and his eyes dilated.

It can't be.

[xxsabitoxx]

I think we can all agree that Sanemi is such a whiny little bitch when you ride his cock.

I mean picture it with me, will you?

He's got his back against the mattress, head propped on some fluffy pillows so he can watch you properly.

He's completely bare, you've got his shirt on.

His hands are gripping the plush of your thighs, dull nails digging into your soft skin as he tries to keep his composure.

But he doesn't realize he's already lost it, cheeks stained a deep crimson and his lips swollen and wobbly. Those normally wide eyes are lidded and glossy, his breath coming out in labored little pants.

Sanemi thinks he's keeping quiet as you roll your lips along the length of his cock, covering it in your shiny arousal as you press it up against his abdomen.

You don't even have him inside of you yet and he's wreck.

Soft praises keep leaving your lips because you have to admit that he's being pretty obedient. His hips are trembling with the effort to keep them from bucking upwards, his cock is weeping from your persistent teasing, and still, he's letting you do as you please.

When you ask him to beg for it, he does.

Sanemi is whining, begging you to finally sit on his cock and ride it like you promised you would.

That's good enough for you, finding the tremor in his voice endearing as you move to pull his shirt up and over your head. You're trying not to smile as he audible groans, his grip tightening as he tries not to reach up and grab your breasts instead.

Sanemi is needy, whimpering lowly as you sink down on his aching length. You watch the way his chest expands before letting out a stuttering breath as your hips connect.

You don’t go easy on him, either. Immediately lifting your hips just to drop them back down again. You set a brutal rhythm, eyes locked on Sanemi’s face as he falls apart.

You barely even notice the burn in your thighs as you work yourself on his cock. The string of profanities and whimpers leaving Sanemi’s lips are more than enough to keep you going.

His nails are raking down your thighs, leaving scratch marks in their wake.

For a split second you swear his eyes are getting glossy, possibly enough for tears to leak down his scarred cheeks. That’s just enough to egg you on, tone taking a nearly cruel tone as you stop bouncing and begin to tease him.

Tis merely an unfinished thought~

[simonsrileyhusband]

nsfw:

im tired of reading about simon coming back from a mission and behing rough, letting out his stress on the reader. no, what about needy simon? he waited so long to come home to you);

simon shuts the door behind him with a hard swing, his boots heavy on the floor as he rushes to the sofa where you were sitting. his knees hit the carpet on the floor, his big bags long forgotten on his way to you.

simons face is buried into your lap, the top of his head pocking youe belly as his arms wrap around you. he would be lying if he said his eyes werent teary.

your hands gently leave your book besides you, going down to his short hair and gently brushing it, massaging his shoulders and rubbing the top of his back. simon breaths heavily, he needs to be close to you, he needs to feel you.

simon looks up at you, his eyes all shiny and longing for your face. 'misses you...' he mumbles, 'i know baby, you are home now' and as sweet as the moment is, simon cant help but get extremely needy.

simon raises his body from the floor, still on his knees, his lips all over you, your lips, ylur cheeks, nose, jaw, neck, everywhere. he takes in your scent and presses his body to yours.

"i missed you so much love... i need you"

simon will pick you up, never letting go of your body. he will carry you to your shared bedroom, placing you gently on it. his big hands making sure you dont fall into the softness of the bed.

simon grinds and whines as he strips off his and your clothes.

simon almost cums when he hears you moan his name after weeks or months awau from you.

simon whispers 'i love you' and 'i missed you' to your ear as he pounds on you.

and when he cums inside of you he bites down softly on your shoulder. he doesnt pull out and you dont push him away either, instead he gently rolls to the bed, you on top of him, still inside of you and eventually he falls asleep while his bulky arms keep you in place.

"give me 30 minutes love... ill take you out to eat when i wake up..."

[realcube]

SUMMER HEAT pt2

summer sex with hq men

characters ☀ suna, daichi, bokuto & nishinoya

tws/tags ☀ handjobs // vaginal, size kink // semi public, fingering, breeding // oral (receiving)

SUNA RINTARŌ liked to laze outside in the hammock with you, sheltered from the blistering sun by the shade of the trees. one arm wrapped around your shoulder, and the other resting of your waist as you nuzzled against him. it was calm for a while, until you positioned yourself in such a way that your tits were pressed right against his chest. soon enough, you could feel his length stiffening and prodding against your thigh. suna chose against aknowledging it, but when you looked up at him with a devilish smile, you could see a gentle pink dusting over his features. "want some help?" you offer kindly, as you slip your hand beneath his shorts and stroke his cock. eyes closed, he nods, "would you, baby?" his question is answered as he feels your delicate hands wrap around his length and start pumping, eliciting hushed moans from your boyfriend, you could feel his biceps tense around you as he pulled you even closer towards him. "fuck, (y/n). you're so perfect."

DAICHI SAWAMURA goes on a camping trip every summer with his friends, but this year they are all busy with their own affairs so he convinces you to come with him instead. though camping with you is a little different than with his friends. your hands are pinned above your head by daichi, against the floor of the tent while his massive cock drills into your hole. your nipples perk at the cold night air, tempting him to take one in his mouth and suck. you arch your back and let out a shriek-like moan at how his girth rips you open, and he chuckles, while keeping his vigorous rhythm, "might want to be quiet, doll." he captures your lips in his own, keeping you in a ferocious kiss before suddenly pulling away, "you don't want to wake the bears." you whimper at the suggestion, remaining quiet for a couple of moments before you continue to scream at how your strained walls have to contort to accommodate his size. you figured nothing the bears could do to you would hurt more than daichi.

BOKUTO KŌTARŌ was very excited to visit the water park with you. but after he saw you in your swim suit, he spent the majority of his time in the park praying for your bikini top to get caught in the slide. and after going down together, with you on his lap, he has to drag you away to the changing rooms so he can relieve himself before he gets back in the pool. he has your wet body bent over against the door of the stall, thick fingers stimulating your aching clit while his cock rams into you, over and over again. with his other hand grabbing your ass, watching your shiny body bounce with each thrust, it doesn't take long before he's ready to burst inside you. his eyes are tightly shut and he grits his teeth together to avoid moaning your name in the public changing rooms, this is about the quietest he's ever been. he pants heavily in lieu of moans, taking deep, laboured breaths that guide him through his climax, as your tight hole wrings him dry and he spills into you. as much as he enjoys the feeling of your snug cunt, eventually he pulls out, but he shoves his fingers in immediately in place of his cock, causing you to yelp. "sorry, babe," he whispers, "can't have you leaking into the water though." you exhale out your nose, "i think i'm done with pools for today, actually."

NISHINOYA YŪ picked up fishing during his travels, and was eager to share his new-found hobby with you. so on a nice, warm day, he decided to rent a boat and take you out into the middle of a lake so you could join him. however, he should've known that the two of you plus a secluded area could only lead to one thing. the boat rocks and you hear the slushing of water with each fierce thrust. your wanton moans echo across the lake, in the stark contrast to the previous tranquility. "shh." he smirks, placing a finger over your lips, "you'll scare the fish away." you bite your lip in attempt to suppress your moans, but he only tosses his head back and increases the pace. "so fuckin' sexy." he grunts, pulling out, only so he can drop onto his chest and push his face between your legs, tongue lapping up your juices, desperate for your taste.

[cacoetheswriting]

I have a request. Bare with me new at this request bit.

Eddie wakes up hands cuffed to his bed with reader blowing him. Then has sex with him.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.2k

content warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI: explicit and mature themes, smut, established relationship, cnc, somno, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, use of toys, adult language / dirty talk, use of pet names, a little pervy, more plot than porn tbh ‘cause i don’t know how else to write smutty content, slightly possessive!reader, jealousy, slightly dom!eddie but also slightly dom!reader - unedited - pls let me know if i missed any!

a/n: pls have your age / age range stated in your bio when requesting 18+ content. cleared here in the dm’s, but it saves a lot of back and forth when it’s in the bio - for any future requests.

He’s flustered. Stumbling over his words, cheeks a deep red. He’s avoiding your gaze. Staring instead at his beat up sneakers as he rolls a twig around with the sole of his shoe.

You can’t help the smirk that circles your lips as he stammers through the pros and cons of his proposition as if it’s a thesis and he’s aiming for top marks; or a close equivalent. If only he put this much care in his homework, you think to say but bite your tongue since he’s clearly nervous enough.

“What do you think?” He asks, finally meeting your eyes. 

The look behind the brown is hopeful, eager. Like a little boy waiting in line for a shiny new comic. Only, he’s not wanting a superhero book. No.

Eddie Munson has a request of a far different variety and you’d be lying if it didn’t excite you as well.

“You want me to suck you off while you’re sleeping?”

Eddie nods.

“If you think it’s too much, you can obviously say no and we can forget I-I even suggested it.” He’s stammering again. “I-I just thought it’d be a cool thing to try—”

“I’m not opposed to it,” you say, interrupting, and shrug your shoulders to showcase indifference although you’re feeling anything other than that.

You’ve been not-so-casually hooking up with Eddie for a little over a year. 

One would say — Robin — this situationship you have with the curly-haired metal-head is the reason you haven’t been able to find a real boyfriend, but what does she know about relationships anyway? Okay, harsh. She actually knows a lot considering she’s in one. Point being, it’s Eddie. And you’d forgo any connection just to hear him moan your name every single night: even if it means absolutely nothing the next morning.

“Are you putting a timeline on this, or do you want it to be a surprise?” You ask.

“Definitely a surprise.”

A week goes by.

You think about his proposition often. Sheer excitement mixed with a fuck ton of nerves. You’ve blown him before, numerous times. He says he loves when you do. Thinks about it afterwards. Jacks off to the memory of your lips around his dick.

This is different, however. He won’t talk to you. Won’t tell you how pretty you look on your knees for him. And you get off on his words.

You sleep over at the trailer twice during the week. 

The first night, you don’t want to seem too eager and make point to show Eddie how tired you are after he’s fucked you raw. He knows not to expect it then. Instead, he opens his arms and lets you cuddle him until dreams take over.

The second night, you sort of psych yourself out. His light snores ripple through the bedroom. It’s all you can hear, aside from the thumping of your heart. You think about this situation you have found yourself in with Eddie, and wonder if perhaps Robin is right about this whole thing between you and the metal-head. Maybe you should reserve the more kinky stuff for an actual boyfriend. Especially because there’s a lot of trust required to act on deviance when the other person is asleep and trust is often reserved for more traditional relationships, you think. What you and Eddie have is lust.

Then, one afternoon the following week, Eddie surprises you.

Unfortunately, not in a nice way. He’s talking to a girl. Flirting, actually. You can see them at the bar. He says something, which must be funny because the girl places a hand on his leather-clad shoulder and pushes him gently while throwing her head back in giggles. Eddie’s not funny. Okay, he’s hilarious but he’s not a make-a-girl-flirty-laugh funny. And your blood boils.

“A vicious thing, jealousy.” Steve mumbles next to you.

“Can you even be jealous if you’re not actually with the other person?” Robin asks.

You tell them both to shut up then force yourself to look away from the bar. From the guy that’s not your boyfriend, but rather the best hookup of your life, and the pretty girl he’s flirting with, who may one day very well become his real girlfriend. One could call this thing you’re doing now spiraling. Your friends do, they say it simultaneously because they see the look in your eyes. 

Wanting to save yourself from further embarrassment, you grab your handbag and your jacket, and tell your friends goodbye. They plead with you not to go, but only for a moment because Nancy is back with the next round of drinks and they forget all about your problems of the heart (and vagina).  

You push past the sweaty bodies of Hideout goers and slip out the front door, into the cool breeze. The sound of your heels against the pavement grows louder the further you get away from the dingy bar. Eddie was your ride home. He drew the short straw on being everyone’s designated driver for the night. He’ll have one stop less to make, you think, can spend that extra time with this girl he met.

Twenty minutes on foot and you’re home. You shed the night off your back. A quick shower, a fresh set of pyjama shorts. You down a cold glass of water, then another for good measure. And just like that, you’re feeling sober and ready for bed. Ready to forget the sight of Eddie and that girl.

The night however, has other plans.

There’s a knock on your door. Metal on wood. With a sigh, you cross the living room towards it and press down on the handle. Eddie’s standing in the corridor. His head snaps up as you open to reveal the inside of your apartment.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“I came to see if you were okay,” he answers. ���You left so abruptly. Didn’t even say goodbye.”

You shrug. “You seemed busy. I assumed you wouldn’t notice I left.”

Eddie’s brows string together.

“Why wouldn’t I notice?” He sounds genuinely confused, then recognition feigns on his features. “Is this because of the girl?”

You shrug again, because what else is there for you to do without completely spilling your guts.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“You know there’s only you for me, right?” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Dollface, I’m not interested in anyone else. That was just harmless flirting.”

You drop your arms and step aside, letting him pass. You shut the door behind him before turning to face him once more.

“Eddie, I’m not an idiot, okay?” You begin, “I know what we’re doing is casual and that one day it might end.”

“Who says anything about wanting anything to end?” He counters with a smirk and walks away, down the hallway, towards your bedroom.

By the time you join him, the metal-head has stripped down to a T-shirt and boxers. Wordlessly, he gets into your bed and lifts the covers up, waiting for you to join him. You drop your arms with an exaggerated sigh and he laughs. Smooth, music to your ears. 

Once you do, Eddie’s asleep in minutes. But not before he murmurs, “You’re the only girl I’d let anywhere near my dick and heart.”.

You giggle. “Aren’t they one and the same?”

He snorts. “Exactly, dollface.” And proceeds to place a kiss to the top of your head before sleep takes over.

Satisfied with how the night ended up — Eddie in your bed; the usual — you get comfortable in his embrace. Feeling safe and content, it doesn’t take long for you to also fall asleep. 

When you wake, it’s still dark, aside from the bedside lamp you left switched on. Eddie’s snoring next to you, but that’s not what your sleepy self is paying attention to. Your focus is on something hard pressing into your thigh and call it possessiveness or whatever, but suddenly you think to act on his offer from a few weeks ago. Make it that much more difficult for him to leave you for ‘the real deal’.

There’s a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs locked to your iron-rod headboard (from the last time Eddie stayed over). Tentatively, you reach for it and click the loose ring around Eddie’s wrist — the hand that’s so perfectly placed above his head, since he fell asleep resting on it.

Satisfied, a smirk circling your still sleepy expression, you run your hand down his chest, stomach, until you reach the band of his boxers. You glance at the metal-head, still sleeping, his erection now in your gentle grasp. So you sit up fully, pushing the covers aside.

Without further hesitation, you first circle your tongue around the tip of his cock, lick down his shaft, and then slowly drag it up along the underside. Lightly, you flick your tongue across the vein, just under the head. Eddie shivers underneath you, but makes no further indication that he’s awake, so you let your lips envelop around his head, taking him into your mouth.

Cheeks hollow, you suck, then swirl your tongue around and lick his shaft again. He moans in his sleep, shifts under you and the handcuff rattles. You glance at him from under your lashes and wet your lips before continuing. 

You slide his cock across your mouth, once, twice, then wrap your mouth around it once more. A moment passes as you hold him, erect. His cock fills your cheeks, nudges at the back of your throat, throbbing with need. Sucking, you slide your lips upwards, licking around the tip.

A groan escapes his lips. The sound is magical and it fuels your own desires further. You feel a little bit pervy, a pool of wetness pouring between your own thighs as your lips work on his release. You pick up speed, hands cradling his balls as you take him as deep into your mouth as you can.

“Mhmmm…” Eddie moans awake, “Baby, baby, baby…”

“Let me take care of you,” you say in a sweet tone, batting your lashes for good measure, although you know he can’t see, face buried into your pillows.

You take him back into your mouth, one hand now holding him in place. You slide up and down every inch of him, again taking him as far as you can into your throat while letting your hand do the rest. At the top of the stroke, you swirl your tongue around his head.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re making my wildest dreams come true, dollface.”

Flicking your eyes up to Eddie’s face, you find him watching, his own mouth open, his eyes glassy. He tries to reach for you, but the handcuff is keeping him in place and he groans — a mix of frustration and pleasure. As you work your magic, he braces his body on the bed, so he can jerk his hips up towards your face and you smile into his crotch, his eagerness fuelling your own.

“Mhm fuck, you’re going to make me cum,” he grits.

“Please do, baby. I need your cum in my mouth.”

And you increase your speed as he drops his lock of hair back onto the pillow below. You bop your head up and down his rock-hard length, encouraging him to give in and let go. Face a sticky mess of saliva and precum, you can feel him pulsing and throbbing in your mouth. Suddenly, his hips still and his cock swells between your lips.

He gasps. Chanting your name like a prayer, the metal-head shoots his load into your mouth, feeling more awake than ever. Rhythmically, you squeeze him and press your tongue against the back of his cockhead, drawing every drop out of him. Hot, thick, liquid splatters against the inside of your cheeks and runs down your throat as you straighten, satisfied.

Eddie sits up too, or tries to at least with the fluffy cuff around his wrist. On the elbow he can rest on, he does, looking at you as if you’re an angel sent from above, just for him.

“God,” he grounds out, “You’re unbelievable, dollface.”

A smile circles your lips while you lick them clean. You shuffle closer, hovering over his chest until your mouth finds him, capturing it in a deep kiss.

“I hope this is what you had in mind when you asked me?” You ask in a soft whisper.

He huffs out a laugh. “You exceeded any expectations. You always do.”

“Good.”

And you kiss him again, but not before freeing his wrist. He shakes it, cracks it, and reaches for your face. When his lips find yours for a third time, his dominant side takes over. The moment blooms. His hands work your body, over then under your skimpy pyjama set. Breathless, sweaty. Perfect. 

Unable to contain himself much longer, Eddie pulls you on top of him, one set of fingers digging into your hip bone as the other pulls your shorts aside. He’s smooth with his motions and settles you on his, once again, fully erect dick with ease.

“It’s only you for me, baby.” He says with conviction. “Never doubt that.”

His hand on your throat, squeezing gently as you roll your hips and moan his name until you see stars.

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

[cavernsandcod]

(visit part one and two if you haven't.)

fig. 3 of price asking simon a favor. (i.e, the cuck au atp) | 0.9k

cw: nsfw themes, smut, marital issues, infidelity, stalking?

───────────────

Simon was more excited than he would ever admit.

At least at first, he was.

You’re a seriously boring person. Sleep, wake up, eat, binge a show, sleep again. Might go to the shops for a day if he’s lucky—but then he’s got to watch you spend an hour shopping for underwear.

Exhausting, really. Not the drama he was expecting from watching Price’s neglected wife.

Bedtime became the most interesting. Probably his favorite. From the brush, he had a perfect few of your little routines.

If John was home that night, you’d give him a goodnight kiss and lay beside him in the dark until he fell asleep, and he always did first. You’d turn on the lamp and pull out a good book, giggling and blushing at damn near every page. Pathetic.

Those nights were nothing compared to when your husband wasn’t home. When you knew John would have a late one and end up snoring into paperwork until early morning. The bored housewife, too repressed to open up about her needs. If he only watched you during day hours, he might think you were a prude.

How wrong he was.

The goodnight text from John was your signal to finally let loose.

The moment your shoulders relax and you sink into the sheets to dig in your bedside drawer. You spend at least ten minutes writhing and moaning against them, teasing your cunt with your favorite vibrator. Probably imagining the shirtless, washboard ab blokes from the books. Even more pathetic.

It got to a point where Simon was tempted to break the rules. To storm in there and put an end to the way you danced around each other. John was obviously at a standstill, some sort of mid-life, war dog crisis.

And you, rightfully so, were bored out of your mind.

You ache for someone with a bite. Someone static, yet not monotonous. Someone like the ghost watching from your yard.

Thank Christ for spontaneity.

The night you found out your husband would be gone for weeks in Istanbul, you were determined for action. Instead of staying at home and rinsing and repeating your sad routine, you went on the hunt for company; a rough fuck without strings.

It was so, so wrong. But, there you were. A lonely bird in a pub with wandering eyes.

Simon knew it was wrong, too. Not enough to stop. Fucking you was the one thing he could never ever take back or mitigate when all was said and done.

He stood at the entrance and snuffed out his cigarette, balaclava shoved in his pocket. He needed his face for this on the off chance you ever took note of him on base.

The sneaking suspicion in him says you won’t be looking at it much, though.

That’s not why you’re here. It’s obvious you’re on the prowl. God knows how many offers you’d be getting if he weren’t here to hold them off.

You bat your lashes at almost every bloke that walks by, even though your rock is on full display. None of the young, eager ones catch your eye.

You’re looking for grit. Experience. Mass. Everything in your husband except the man himself. Thankfully, that paints a perfect picture of the man stalking toward you.

“Kentucky, on the rocks.” Simon places his hands on the bartop, his right dangerously close to the shiny diamond on your left one.

His voice is gravel and curt, reeking of sin. Of course you look.

You don’t say anything at first. His mug is more intimidating than the mask. He lifts his first drink and takes a quick sip, hooded eyes burning through you.

“You ‘ere alone?” He asks gruffly, eyeing the perk of your tits. Even better up close than the pictures in the captain’s office. “Or are you waiting for a someone special?”

“Yes and no.” You reply, raising a skinny, black straw to your glossy lips. Your voice is smoother with the cocktail in your system, oozing from the holes in your life that need filled. “Are you special?”

"Could be." He chuckles and it's a chilling sound. You don't flinch, only wave down the bartender and eye-fuck him for the nth time. Simon could've taken you right there, in front of everyone, wedding ring still on and all.

Simon sniffs, setting down his now empty drink.

"I've got a better bottle in my flat. Has your name on it." His tone hardly sounds like flirting—barely polite, even—and you still swoon, practically drooling. There's no way he's making the short drive without being inside you.

A thick pinky settles on your left hand, twitching against the diamond to remember the man who gave it to you.

"Do whatever you have to."

You nod at him, teeth digging into your bottom lip; a nervous tick he picked up on weeks ago. It doesn't stop you from scooting off the stool and following him out of the pub either, giggling up at what you believe to be a willing stranger.

"You're the only one I trust, Simon."

He knows why now. It's better a trusted gun in your pants than some sleaze. Perhaps this wasn't what the captain had in mind when he asked him to keep you safe.

Maybe this, maybe that.

It all goes out the window when he's looking down at you splayed across his backseat, eyes pooling with tears that beg for love. Your fingers bite into his ribs as an anchor, legs wide from being split open more than you've ever been before.

Instead of giving you comfort the way a husband would—he licks at them and pistons his cock into you harder.

It's what you need. Whatever it takes.

[linkons-most-wanted]

LIs Build IKEA furniture

I couldn’t get this out of my head, so enjoy 🤣

Zayne ❄️

Immediately takes charge of the process, doesn’t realize he’s doing so until you tease him about it

Treats the process like a surgery, you become the assistant. “Hex wrench. Number sixteen screw. Panel C in a vertical orientation.” When you tease him, he pretends to brush it off but then leans into the bit. “Phillips head screwdriver, stat.”

Never gets confused by the diagrams. Quietly notes errors and typos in the instructions. Seems to be able to use the tiniest details to know the correct orientation for each piece

Somehow had sandpaper on hand for when the pieces don’t fit perfectly

You hardly got a chance to look at the instructions but he still made you feel like an essential part of the process

Furniture is assembled perfectly in record time

Xavier 💫

Happy to help you out, starts reading the instructions while you sort the parts

Falls asleep reading the instructions

You take charge, waking him up on step 3 when you need him to hold something. He falls asleep holding it but somehow doesn’t drop it

When you ask for a part he just stares at the pile and picks up random things to offer you until he gets the right one or you point directly at it

Ask for the same part a second time, “Which was it again?”

You attach the last part and turn to high-five him—he’s sleeping again

Rafayel 🎨

“You want to spend time on this weird project instead of hanging out with me?” “This is us hanging out.” “What? But it’s boring. Can’t we, like, get someone else to put it together?”

You start building anyway

When you ask for something specific (“hold this”) he does so without hesitation but keeps complaining

“If I have to hold this board up any longer I’m going to get wrist cramps and then I won’t be able to paint for a week!”

“Ow ow, I think that gave me a splinter! Look at it! It might get infected! I need first aid, like, immediately.”

“This color is boooring, we should paint it later.”

This might be taking longer than if you just built it yourself

Sylus 🚗

“Did you steal this?” “No.” “Then why is it still in pieces?” “It’s how they sell it. It saves money.” “Why didn’t you say something? I’ll take you to a real furniture store.” “I want this exact one though.” “Can’t you pay them to assemble it?”

All you have to say is “I guess you’re not up for the challenge” and then he’s sitting on the floor next to you, also staring at the instructions

You both get confused on the same steps. Which side goes up again? Can you tell by the number of holes? Eventually you both shrug and hope for the best. Sylus brute forces a few pieces that probably don’t actually go together.

You realize you put a piece on backwards three steps ago and Sylus patiently helps you backtrack and fix it

“You’re being surprisingly cooperative.” “I am?” “Yeah, I thought you’d be way more annoyed.” “I never feel annoyed when I’m with you.”

“Where did that piece go?” (Mephisto stole it, it was shiny)

Caleb 🍎

“Hey Pipsqueak, remember when I built that bed for you? Even though you were in high school you still reeeeally wanted a pink one…” “Ugh, stop! It’s embarrassing!”

Takes the bag of pieces and the instruction book right away, uses his gravity Evol to hold up the parts. “Caleb, you took all the jobs! Let me help!” “You can help by getting us some snacks.”

“Caleb, I don’t think that goes there.” “Of course it does, are you really going to doubt the mechanical skills of a former fighter pilot?” Ten minutes later when it’s clear you were right the whole time: “Caleb, you dummy.”

“I switched the delivery notification number in your account over to my phone number since you’re going to need me to build whatever you buy, anyway.”

“You should come over to help me build my furniture too.” “But you didn’t let me help at all!” “Snack duty is very important, Pipsqueak.”

[anythingneverythingnstuffs]

neighbor!reader x simon 'ghost' riley pt 9

masterlist

You woke up alone in your bed the next morning. You didn’t remember how you got there, and you were wearing the same clothes that you had worn the day before. It only took you a few groggy seconds to realize what must’ve happened last night. It was all coming back to you.

Simon. Simon was gone. He must have already left.

As you sat up from your bed, you noticed a piece of paper and a key on your nightstand. With a soft sniffle and shaky hands, you picked up the paper and began to read:

Love,

If you’re reading this, it means I’ve already left. I’m no good at saying goodbye, but then again, I’ve never really had anyone worth saying goodbye to. 

Anyway, I’m leaving you a key to my flat. Feel free to come and go as you please, anything in the pantry is yours. Try not to miss me too much, yeah?

Yours, Simon

Tears definitely didn’t cloud your vision as you read his note. He must have- had he stayed the night? How did you get back to bed? When had he written the note?

You were still wearing last night’s clothes, so that meant no funny business happened. Not that you would have been opposed to any funny business. Specifically with Simon, your incredibly handsome-

Ugh, fuck. And he was going to be gone. For months.

After rereading the note a few times, you glanced down again at your nightstand where the single shiny key sat. The key to Simon’s apartment. The key he had left you after giving you permission to come and go as you pleased, to help yourself to his pantry, and to not miss him too much.

It seemed you were already failing at that last bit. Whoops.

-

At the same time that you were waking up with the realization that he was gone, Simon was already hundreds of miles away. Leaving you like that, without a real proper goodbye, that had been the last thing he wanted to do. He didn't want to leave quietly, like a ghost in the night.

But Simon knew better. He knew if he had said goodbye to you properly the next morning before he left, as early as he would be leaving, that he might not have been able to leave at all. Leave you at all.

He had gotten barely any sleep the night before. Instead, after you had fallen asleep in his arms, he held you. For hours. Only when he knew he had to go back and pack up the rest of his things did he finally tuck you into your bed.

An hour later, he had come back into your apartment to get one last look at you before he left and to leave you something. It was better that you were still sleeping. He had already written his note to you, and the spare key he had made specifically for you was in his ungloved hand as he walked back into your bedroom.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley truly lived up to his name. After giving you one final glance, the note and key left on your nightstand, he made his way out of your bedroom. He only stopped to give your cat a few pets. He was going to miss the feline, too, surprisingly.

“Take care of ‘er, yeah?” he had mumbled to your cat.

“Ghost! Did ya hear me?”

Ghost’s head jerked up at the mention of his name. Had someone spoken to him-?

That was when he realized that both Soap and Price were looking directly at him, as if they were expecting him to answer a question they had asked. Had they asked him a question?

“Sorry, mate, must’ve missed that last bit.”

“I said, are you ready for this one, Ghost?” Soap repeated, giving him a nudge on the arm with his elbow.

Was he ready for this? He had to be. He had to be ready, he had to complete this mission, and he had to get back home. Safely. To you. It had only been a few hours, but he already missed you so much.

-

It was now a week after Simon left for his deployment. Mission. Whatever it was that he did. He was gone, you didn’t really know when he’d be back, you didn’t know how to contact him, you didn’t know if he was even still alive-

All you did know is that you had a key to his flat. A key he had given you, the trust that must have come with leaving a key to his home to you, his neighbor. You really were just his neighbor. His friend, too, perhaps. Right?

Feel free to come and go as you please. Those were his words. You had no reason to feel guilty entering his home.

Anything in the pantry is yours. You knew that much of his food had already been tossed, the stuff that would go bad in the time he was gone like milk and whatnot, but he always did keep a well-stocked pantry of non-perishables. Stuff that wouldn’t have had to have been tossed.

With a resigning sigh, you got up from where you had been sitting to grab that damn key. It was time to put it to use.

Unlike other times when you had visited Simon’s flat, you didn’t check yourself in the mirror before you left yours. He wasn’t there to see you, no need for any extra primping or preening you might have done a time or two before seeing him.

You told your cat to hold down the fort before making your way over to Simon’s.

-

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was in a classified place doing classified things with people that were most certainly also classified. Nonetheless, it was a week after he had left for his extended deployment. His team was finally given the okay to breathe, and they were taking full advantage.

It wasn’t until finally unlocking his cell phone after one long ass week that he received a notification from his at-home security system. Someone had entered with a key. He only gave one person a key to his flat.

You.

Smiling under his signature balaclava, he tapped a gloved finger on his phone screen. Seconds later, there you were, in his living room. You were sitting on his couch, but you weren’t sitting where you usually sat. You were sitting in his spot.

Simon couldn’t help a twinge of pride when he noticed that.

In that moment, he really wanted to send you a message. To tell you that he was okay, that he was missing you, but hoped that you weren’t missing him too badly, just like he told you. It was a bad idea. He couldn’t risk you somehow getting caught in the crosshairs, you didn’t have a burner phone or anything he could send messages to.

But he could check his home security system app on his phone while connected to a secured VPN.

It was strange. Ghost had never missed someone while he was out on deployment. All of the people that mattered most to him had always been his brothers in arms, especially after coming of age and joining the armed forces. His family… Well, he had his chosen family. 

It was a different feeling, missing someone while being away from them. Simon didn’t like it. But, in the week that he had been gone so far, he had realized one thing.

He had never had someone to look forward to coming home to. And that was a whole different kind of motivator to get the job done, stay alive, and (maybe most importantly) come home (to you).

Simon let out a soft sigh as he watched you flip through channels with his TV remote, wearing one of his jackets that probably looked like a blanket on the screen to anyone who didn’t recognize that piece of clothing, especially with how it fit you. It didn’t. It fit him, but there you were, making it work anyway. It probably still smelled like him (it did).

One week down. He didn’t know how many more to go.

first

previous

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[sunshineyuyu]

friends with benefits a roommate (p. sh)

★ summary: after hooking up with mingi, you wake up the next morning and share a coffee with his attractive roommate seonghwa. a one night stand suddenly turns into a recurring thing—is the sex with mingi really that great? or are the mornings after with the roommate even better? ★ pairing: seonghwa x f!reader (ft. mingi) ★ genre: fluff ★ word count: 3.2k ★ tags/warnings: consultant!seonghwa, grad student!reader, fem!reader, grad student/best friend!mingi, references to sex but no descriptions, references to drinking, corporate grind woes, intentionally lowercase ★ notes: beta'd by the bestie @starhwas-bunny. also this is my first time posting :') ★ masterlist

like most grad students, you like to work hard, play hard.

which is why you’re at the dingiest bar on campus with your cohort, drunk out of your mind and grinding against your friend mingi to some doja cat song. and once it ends, you tug on mingi’s arm to presumably get more drinks, but instead drag him to the hallway near the bathrooms and stand on your tiptoes to slot your lips over his.

(thankfully, he reciprocates.)

and so, stumbling and giggling, the two of you call an uber back to mingi’s place.

⋆⋆⋆

the first thing seonghwa notices about you are your legs.

after all, how could he not? when all that’s there to cover them is the frayed hem of mingi’s ratty old high school football shirt. and you’re not shy about it—the fact that you’re walking around the apartment in nothing but a shirt that barely reaches the tops of your thighs.

the second thing seonghwa notices about you are your eyes.

surprisingly big and round for so early in the morning, and the fact that they’re trained straight on him.

“‘morning,” he says casually.

“good morning!” you reply, seemingly cheered by his acknowledgement. you scamper to the barstools on the other side of the large kitchen island and plop down on one. “i’m y/n.”

seonghwa is a little surprised at the introduction. he’s used to mingi bringing home girls often after living with him all through college until now, but he’s not used to interacting with them beyond catching a flash of their hair as they make a hasty exit.

the name is also unique, yet familiar.

“oh,” seonghwa says. “mingi’s mentioned you before. you’re in his cohort, right?”

“yup,” you say, popping the p at the end. “we’re besties.”

seonghwa hums, and then realizes he hasn’t introduced himself. “i’m seonghwa. you want some coffee?”

“yes, please,” you say.

“an iced latte okay?”

“um—yeah…?”

seonghwa can hear the apprehension on your tongue. the unsaid question—can he make a latte?

it’s silent for a little while as seonghwa flits around the kitchen, fetching the bag of fresh guatemalan coffee beans he’d picked up only yesterday and meticulously grinding them down into a powder. he presses it in the portafilter and then locks that into place in the group head of his shiny chrome silver espresso machine. it’s a relatively new purchase—or investment, as he likes to call it.

mingi had been wary about the whole thing—understandably so, since buying an espresso machine on a grad student budget is frivolous to say the least—so seonghwa had paid for it. they’d reached a mutual agreement that while the machine belongs entirely to seonghwa, mingi can pay for the beans to earn his share of the coffee it produced.

regardless, the espresso machine is an immediate hit with you, who oohs and aahs as the machine whirs and espresso drips out into two small porcelain cups.

“so fancy,” you say dreamily. 

smiling, seonghwa opens the fridge. “milk?”

“do you have oat?” you ask.

“of course,” seonghwa says, pulling out the carton.

with practiced hands, he pours the oat milk into a metal cup and then takes it over to the milk frother attachment. afterwards, he portions the frothed milk into two glasses filled with ice, before topping them off with the espresso shots. from a drawer, he retrieves two glass straws and then slides the finished drink over the counter to an awed you.

“it’s like a personal coffeeshop!” you squeal. “hold on, i have to take a picture!”

you dash back into mingi’s room, and for a second the spell is broken. seonghwa remembers that you’d come home last night with mingi—that you’d presumably had mind-blowing sex with mingi, that you slept over in mingi’s bed.

when you return to the kitchen, seonghwa has already swirled his drink together and sips on it a little impatiently. you beam as you take a photo of yours, before following his lead. when you take a sip, your eyes brighten and widen and suddenly, seonghwa is back into it.

back into you.

“omygod!” you say.

“nice, right?” seonghwa says.

“delicious,” you moan. “what beans did you use?”

“oh,” seonghwa says, unable to hide the surprise in his voice at your curiosity. “it’s a new guatemalan blend. i know a guy.” he hands the bag over to you so that you can read the description on the sticker.

you laugh. “‘i know a guy,’” you mimic. “are we talking about drugs?”

“might as well be,” seonghwa says. “i definitely have a caffeine addiction.”

“that’s okay,” you say. “so do i.” you say it conspiratorially, and seonghwa likes the theatrics.

he likes you.

seonghwa’s current project at work has him traveling to utah during the week, and while he loves mingi, coming back on the weekends to a dude just doesn’t really do anything for him. and seonghwa’s been so busy for the past two years—working 70 hours a week and commuting across the whole continent—that he’s never taken the time to consider that maybe there’s something missing.

something like—

sharing a coffee with a pretty girl on an early saturday morning.

something nice. domestic.

something that makes flying back to new york feel like coming home.

but seonghwa is shaken from his out-of-character introspection by sloppy footsteps coming from mingi’s bedroom. the man himself slogs into the kitchen, wearing only low-slung sweatpants and yawning like a heathen.

“no coffee for me?” he pouts at seonghwa.

“didn’t expect you up so early, sleeping beauty,” seonghwa says.

“fucking rude,” mingi grumbles. he turns to you, “you staying for breakfast?”

you peer suspiciously at him. “can you cook?”

“he can’t,” seonghwa says before mingi can reply. “but i can.”

the grin that you flash him is so breathtaking that he has to set his glass down. 

“okay, then,” you say, clapping your hands. “i’ll stay!”

seonghwa hides his own grin by ducking into the fridge for the eggs.

over breakfast, seonghwa tells you about his glamorous (derogatory) life as a consultant, and you respond by enthusiastically explaining the research you do at the university. mingi interjects occasionally, but mostly he just scrolls through twitter on his phone.

seonghwa easily deduces that you’re close friends, but the vibe feels mostly platonic.

he wonders if last night was a one-off, or the beginning of something. if there’s any hidden unrequited feelings. 

he’ll have to sus it out of mingi later, but for now, he’s content with discussing the ethical sourcing of coffee with you.

⋆⋆⋆

two weeks later, after another two grueling visits to utah, seonghwa wakes up to the scent of coffee.

it’s pleasant, and then jarring, because seonghwa knows that mingi doesn’t have the patience to use the espresso machine on his own (he drinks the instant stuff when seonghwa isn’t around). seonghwa leaps out of bed, all thoughts on his precious, pristine espresso machine child.

but the scene he finds in the kitchen is very much the opposite of a catastrophe.

first he sees the afterthought of a bun. hair tossed carelessly into a topknot that bounces as you move.

and then he sees the underwear—baby pink and lacy—and the perfect, round ass sticking out of the fridge.

“oh shit,” he croaks, before clapping a hand over his eyes and spinning around.

he’s rewarded with tinkling laughter that makes his ears burn red. he could get used to that sound, but maybe under different circumstances.

“good morning!” you call.

“um, morning.” seonghwa removes the hand and opens his eyes, but doesn’t turn around quite yet.

“sorry, i would put on some pants, but i wasn’t wearing any last night,” you says. “i’m decent now, though!”

true to your word, your bottom is as covered as it can get with that godforsaken high school football shirt. seonghwa really wishes mingi would get rid of it, but he knows that making varsity is still one of mingi’s proudest accomplishments.

“sorry about that.” seonghwa has to cough to get all the words out properly. his throat hasn’t quite woken up yet (the rest of his body, though, is thrumming with adrenaline, and his brain is working overtime figuring out the morality of saving that image of your ass).

“no worries,” you say breezily. “coffee?”

having the script flipped on him—someone else offering him coffee in his own goddamn apartment—is unsettling. even more unsettling is how similar the scene unfolding is to his brief daydream of domesticity the last time he encountered you.

“you, uh, know how to use the espresso machine?” he asks stupidly. he registers belatedly how his question might sound condescending, but you seem to take it all in stride.

“i was a barista for a bit in college,” you say.

“nice,” seonghwa says, just for something to say.

“i hope it’s okay that i used it,” you say. “i just really needed some caffeine after last night.”

at seonghwa’s questioning gaze, you explain, “we went way too hard.”

“any occasion?” seonghwa says, sliding dutifully onto a barstool when he realizes that you really do know what you’re doing. you have the oat milk out on the counter, the same glasses he used last time—pre-prepped with ice—and the new bag of orange-infused coffee beans.

you hum as you froth the milk. “made it past our first thesis deadline.”

“that’s exciting,” seonghwa says.

“barely,” you sigh. “we’re just waiting around to get our asses handed to us during critiques.”

“oh, well,” says seonghwa sympathetically. “i can relate. i routinely get my ass handed to me. some internal organs too.”

it’s not his best work, but it makes you laugh, so seonghwa considers that a win. it’s been a long time since he tried charming someone, and he’s more than a little out of practice.

but he can barely mull over it as his brain finally moves past its previous mental exercise (that image of your ass is burned in his memory forever now, intentionally or not) and finds a new problem to turn over: if you’re here, in the morning, wearing mingi’s shirt, then you must have stayed the night. and if you stayed the night, then you must have—

“here! hope it’s as good as yours,” you say, passing the latte over the island to seonghwa.

the moan that he lets out is involuntary, and it makes you beam.

“what do you think of the new beans?” seonghwa asks.

“mm, it’s nice,” you say. “sweet.”

in spite of the alarms firing in his head, seonghwa ventures a: “is there full-service breakfast with the coffee?”

“ooo,” you say, “taking advantage of me while i’m the one in the kitchen, i see.”

seonghwa instantly regrets it, as he says, “oh, i was just joking. i can make—”

“oh no, mister,” you say. “you sit your ass down. i’m about to blow your mind. this girlie can do much better than eggs and toast. now, where’s the flour?”

over the next twenty minutes, seonghwa watches in awe as you prance around the kitchen, unearthing ingredients and kitchenware that seonghwa barely even knew existed in the apartment. you tsk at the state of the stovetop, manage to reorganize their poor smattering of spices, and utilize takeout chopsticks expertly as a whisk.

and at the end, you present seonghwa with a plate of fluffy pancakes and perfectly soft-scrambled eggs.

when he takes a bite, he’s transported instantly back to his childhood. to picturesque mornings, eating homemade sunday brunch with his family to the lazy twittering of birds and under the warmth of a midmorning sun.

it tugs at his chest as he drenches his pancakes in potentially expired syrup from the back of their fridge, pours hot sauce over his eggs—

a nostalgia and a fondness that he thought he lost to the corporate grind.

“how is it?” you ask.

“marry me,” seonghwa says.

and despite being more serious than he’s ever been, you laugh at him.

“the patriarchy really popped out there for a second!” you say, digging into your own pancakes.

seonghwa opens his mouth to explain that he really did mean it, but as per usual, mingi decides that now is the perfect time to ruin everything with his presence. he’s at least wearing a shirt this time when he emerges from his lair, and you pop up to throw together a plate for him.

“thanks, mommy,” mingi sighs as he slides into a barstool.

“ew,” you wrinkle your nose.

“not what you were saying last night,” says mingi, with a disgusting amount of scrambled egg shoved into his mouth.

“don’t listen to him,” you say to seonghwa, but seonghwa has already turned his attention to scrolling through the news on his phone.

“kinky,” he throws out casually, not even bothering to look up.

breakfast goes like that this time—seonghwa as the one glued to his phone, while mingi and you gripe about having to regrade midterms because of a cheating scandal.

⋆⋆⋆

by the fifth time seonghwa encounters you in his kitchen on a saturday morning, you’ve fallen into a routine. seonghwa makes coffee, and you make breakfast; seonghwa makes sure to keep the fridge well-stocked as you begin making increasingly elaborate dishes, and you gift seonghwa a package of your favorite coffee blend.

you enjoy these stolen moments alone, bustling around the kitchen to the soft crackling of whatever record seonghwa chooses to play that morning. the two of you have the first few sips of coffee, first few bites of eggs, first few spoons of porridge alone, until the smell finally draws mingi out of his bed.

and then there’s three of you sitting around the dining table. it’s always pleasant, always comfortable, but it always feels like just one person too many.

sometimes it’s mingi, who is hungover or tired or grumpy; sometimes it’s you, who doesn’t like star wars or follow sports; and most of the time, it’s seonghwa, who doesn’t go to grad school, who spends most of the week, month, year in a different city—

who falls asleep alone at night.

seonghwa knows he could ask just mingi about it. are you just hooking up? is it a situationship? does mingi have feelings for you?

but he won’t, because somehow ignorance is bliss, and he’d rather live in limbo than risk a dive into hell. anyway, he’s not around enough for anything to flourish; he can barely keep the small succulent on his windowsill alive, least of all a real, adult relationship.

and eventually, you always have to leave.

⋆⋆⋆

seonghwa is exhausted. 

his flight had been delayed three times, and it’s already almost midnight by the time he toes off his shoes in the entryway of the apartment. his watch buzzes furiously, and seonghwa knows that it must be either mingi or you, drunkenly asking where he is. a few days ago, he’d promised that he would finally go out with you two, but he’s far too tired for those frivolities now.

instead, he shoots mingi a brief but apologetic text and hops into the shower.

what he intended to be a quick wash turns into a long one, as he lets the warm water pelt him—he’s never gotten around to fixing the abnormally aggressive water pressure of the shower head. but it feels nice now. jolts some feeling back into his system.

when he steps out of the shower, he feels clean but oddly raw. he treats himself to his favorite set of silk pajamas and decides that he has just enough energy to do some of his animal crossing daily tasks.

before he can slip into bed with his switch, he hears a series of frantic knocks on the front door.

operating under the assumption that mingi probably forgot his keys at the bar or something, seonghwa doesn’t check the peephole and just unlocks the door. he doesn’t even bother opening it before turning back towards his room.

but the thing swings open so abruptly that it bangs against the wall.

“jesus!” seonghwa says. “be careful with that—!”

except it’s not a drunk mingi standing in the threshold, it’s—

“you!” you say, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “you didn’t text me back. why didn’t you come out tonight?”

you look different tonight.

you’re wearing real clothes, for one. jeans and a top that makes your tits look great (not that seonghwa is focusing on that). 

your facial features look sharper, outlined and defined by makeup that’s usually washed away by morning. and you’re angry—eyes narrowed to near slits and hands on your hips. 

seonghwa sighs. “i just got back. i was too tired to go out. i told mingi that i’m sorry.”

“well you didn’t tell me sorry!” you huff, stepping into the apartment and letting the door shut harshly.

“sorry,” seonghwa says.

you square each other up just then. the smaller but furious you against the bigger but drained seonghwa.

“what are you doing here?” seonghwa finally tries. “where’s mingi?”

“last i saw, he was making out with sarah kim on the dance floor,” you say.

“oh,” seonghwa says. this must be why you are so mad. “i’m sorry.”

for the first time tonight, your anger drops just slightly. “for what?”

hesitantly, seonghwa says, “aren’t you mad?”

“well, yeah,” you say. “but not at mingi.”

and then before seonghwa can ask who exactly you’re mad at, you smack yourself in the forehead.

“oh my god, what was that for—?”

“seonghwa—do you think mingi and i are together or something?”

“well, you two have been hooking up for at least two months now,” seonghwa says.

“fuck,” you mutter, and then you round on seonghwa. “i’ve been trying to hang out with you, and we were supposed to tonight, until you bailed.”

seonghwa is so preoccupied with defending himself, that he barely picks up on the subtext of your words. “i told you—i was fucking tired! my flight was delayed, like, three—”

“the only i reason i was hooking up with mingi was to hang out with you!” you wail.

the statement is so ridiculous that all seonghwa can do is stare at you in stunned silence.

“you- what—?”

“and for the record! we never even really hooked up!” you continue.

faintly, seonghwa wonders if he’s having a heart attack. with every word that comes out your mouth, seonghwa can feel his heart rate spike dramatically. but none of this adrenaline is making its way to his brain, so his processing power is still slow.

“what are you saying?” seonghwa croaks.

your expression softens, and you take a step closer.

“i like you,” you say. “i really like spending the mornings with you, and i’d like to spend nights with you, too. but only if you—”

“yes,” seonghwa says immediately. “yes.”

the edges of your eyes crinkle as your face splits into a large grin. “so, you like me, too?”

seonghwa replies by surging forward and finally, finally kissing you.

⋆⋆⋆

the next morning, seonghwa and you wake up early, but you don’t get up to make coffee or breakfast. you stay in bed for as long as you can, until you hear timid knocks on seonghwa’s door.

“guys? how do you work the espresso machine?”

[cherry-coffees]

thinking about pirate!Caitlyn x mermaid!reader

how Caitlyn's so focused on her control and power, being the captain of her ship (obviously). she's never let anything deter her from getting what she wants, whether that's more power or wealth or whatever.

then she meets you on a walk to a hidden cove while her ship's docked in a nearby port. and gods you just look so beautiful sitting on a rock, combing through your hair. you're almost angelic — enough for Caitlyn to think that you must be one of her fantasies come to life. and she's sworn that she'd never interact with a mermaid: they're too annoying to her, get in the way of her ship's path too often. but you...you can't possibly be annoying.

Caitlyn debates saying anything, not wanting to scare you off. but then you look up at her, all shiny eyes and glistening fins of your tail. normally, you'd be fearful of such a well-known pirate. but the way Caitlyn's expression just seems so soft, adjusting her eyepatch almost subconsciously, you find it quite difficult to be afraid of her.

what starts from cautiously voicing a small "hi" that has Caitlyn's heart skipping a beat ends in her sitting on the sandy shore while you curl up against the water's edge. and you just talk: that's all. for now, at least.

Caitlyn goes on about her current voyage and her crew and "oh i hate getting seasick occasionally, you'd think i'd be immune to it by now." what she doesn't tell you is how she bites the inside of her cheek at how cute your following giggle is. you, in turn, talk about how vain some of the other mermaids you're living with are and how you "just can't stand the days when the fishing boats come by" because you can't go up to visit the shore for a while.

Caitlyn listens intently, and she figures that maybe the tales of pirates getting lured in by sirens are true. but she also realizes that she really wouldn't mind being lured in by you. you, with your shiny tail and seashell top and hair that seems to be nourished by the salt water instead of tangled by it.

when Caitlyn stands, having realized the time and how she should probably get back to her ship to rest, she hesitates just a little. "can i see you again?"

you hum, considering this. "you'd want to see me again?"

"of course. what pirate wouldn't want to meet a beautiful mermaid?"

"lots," you laugh. "but i suppose we can. maybe after the rest of the mermaids leave the cove for the night and your crew's asleep. how long are you here for?"

"just a few days, to rest," Caitlyn trails off, her hesitance extremely obvious. "but..."

"but?"

"but i really like you."

your smile is like a sunbeam that pours over Caitlyn, warmth spreading throughout her body. "i like you too," your voice is just as warm.

from then on, every time Caitlyn comes to visit you, she gives you some kind of jewel she's collected. a shiny comb for your hair, or pearls to drape over yourself in style. you, on your part, gift her seashells. perfect ones: the ones you can't find in the midst of the broken ones washed up on the beach. speckled, smooth, bright, muted: you bring her your favorites. you press them into her palm before kissing the back of her hand.

Caitlyn keeps every. single. one.

A/N - an image of me posting at 1am and trying to not wake my roommates because I'm squealing over Caitlyn Kiramman: >\\\<

[stilljuststardust]

Robotic affirmation challenge

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Someone requested a robotic affirmation challenge so here it is :).

Rules

No overconsumption during the challenge.

No checking the 3D. Period.

Mental diet, aka no affirming against your desires at all.

Don't focus on any resistance, don't try to argue with it or "fix it" just affirm.

The show must go on, affirm anyway.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Instructions

Choose two to three affirmations and loop them in your head. Bonus points for repeating them to the rhythm or melody of a song.

When you want to check the 3D you will either check a vision board or use visualise in place of checking the 3D. Use them for validation instead.

Instead of overconsuming LOA posts you may save four posts/videos/whatever's that help you maintain your mindset. Outside of that don't seek out advice. You know enough.

Duration is up to you but please don't stop after three days, set an end date and don't let anything come between you and affirming till that date is reached.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Schedule

✧ Wake up - affirm

✧ Middle of day - vaunt for five minutes

✧ Before bed - affirm

15 minutes to an hour, you can go longer but if all you can manage is 15 minutes that's ok.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Bonus points

In the shower

During chores

While making a vision board

While playing games

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Info

How to robotic affirm

Robotic affirmations are affirmations that are repeated without feeling. It doesn't matter how you feel when you do them.

You can do other things while affirming you do not just have to sit there. Go throughout your routine, do chores, whatever you want.

How to vaunt

I like writing down vaunts in a journal like I'm writing in my diary.

Vaunting is just thinking as if you're bragging to someone about your desire.

Example:

Oh my god my hair is SO shiny. How did it even get that shiny? Wow my hair is probably the shiniest ever.

Other

Abdullah used to slam doors in Nevilles face saying "you are already in Barbados"

That's what I do to myself when I waver.

Nope. Already there. Too late you can't argue I walked away.

[vrystalius]

Fluff Alphabet — Sanemi

Pairing: Sanemi x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: a lot

Note: a little bit implied chubby!reader because I am self-indulgent :>

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Does he have to choose? Because he really can’t.

Sanemi first and foremost admires how you are always so patient with him, putting up with his temper and literally everything else that comes with being a hashira; worrying about him if he is coming home in tact or if one of Ubuyashiki’s crows land on your windowsill and announce his passing, and him disappearing and appearing in the middle of the night.

But if he had to pint-point what exactly he adores the most, your patience and all that might be close to the top, but your thighs are a strong contender as well. Those might be his most favourite part about you.

He feels a little bit like a pervert of sorts every time he watches your thighs spread out when you sit down, his hand immediately finding their place on them. Sanemi’s face scrunches together into an uncontrollable scowl every time you mention something about your weight or how you are insecure about the size of your thighs, because how dare you? They are as perfect as the rest of you is.

—

B = Bonding (what's your favorite mutual bonding activity?)

Cooking together. Sanemi feels comfortable in the kitchen and knows a couple of simple meals, but he never really has any time to calmly cook a normal dinner. Usually he tosses some rice in a pot and shoves it into his mouth before heading out or eats out in a local restaurant while out on a mission.

Whenever he does have free time, he’d sometimes invite you to cook something simple with him. Maybe a bowl of ramen, sometimes teriyaki salmon, perhaps some dango if you have the ingredients. It feels peaceful and comfortably domestic to sit side by side on the tatami floor and roll up mochi.

—

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?

Overall, Sanemi likes being the little spoon and make himself comfortable in your arms, but he would never ask you outright if he can be held tonight.

Usually, he’s hold you close to his chest instead, his arms almost a little too tightly wrapped around your waist, snuggly pressed up against you. His face would be buried in your warm neck while his legs tangled with yours. You could swear that he’s only acting like he fell asleep so you couldn’t wiggle out of his grasp so you wouldn’t wake him up…

—

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?

Sanemi doesn’t really like over the top dates. He is a man of simple needs and is perfectly happy with taking you out for a walk with some snacks at the end, but if you’d like to do something more or want something bigger, he’d be happy to oblige.

But his ideal date would still be something simple. Maybe Sanemi would take you to a festival and let you spend all of his salary on shooting an bow and arrow or really any game you could get your hands on, stop by the candy stands, maybe take a detour to the parks nearby to look at the blooming cherry blossoms, ending the night with going home and cuddling up together into a ball of warmth. A perfect date.

—

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?

He struggles with expressing his emotions in a way that doesn’t include a training dummy and his katana. Words have failed him for years now and so he has given up on using them to show you his feelings, so he prefers leaving gifts around for you and doing acts if service to show his appreciation.

Sanemi cooks, he cleans and he shows you the shiny rock he found while on a mission, insisting you should keep it because it reflects your beauty.

—

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?

Sanemi doesn’t know if he wants a family. He’s too scared he’ll become like his father, or at least have features like him. He fucked up with his family, he fucked up with his little brother. What will stop him from failing all over again and loosing you? Or your family?

But he does really want a family with you one day. It’s a nice fantasy, but he is terrified of making it reality.

—

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

He’s not exactly the best at knowing what to get you. Sanemi finds things that remind him of you and then he gives them to you.

You have a collection of shiny rocks from all across Japan, all in different colours and types of minerals, some seashells he picked up from the beach a while back, some framed insects he actually wanted to buy for himself but ended up buying some for you as well and other things he can find in the streets, shady alleyways or the nature. He reminds you of a racoon in a way when it comes to scavenging for gifts.

But he is also capable of presenting you the classic bouquet of flowers, it’s just handpicked and a little sad looking. But he tried his best so it deserves to be displayed in a vase.

—

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Sanemi likes holding your hand in his, always and whenever you want. Most of the time he does so to keep you attached to him when traversing crows, but he also needs to know that you are right there with him when you walk somewhere.

It’s instinct by now to reach for your hand whenever you two take off somewhere, sometimes he even reaches out out of reflex after you stuffed your hands into your pockets, confused by he just grabbed some empty air.

At first he was a little shy about holding your hand in front of the other hashira, thinking they might make fun of him and think of him as mushy, but after a while, he stopped caring. Holding your hand is worth more than a side-eye from Tengen and some suppressed squeals from Mitsuri.

—

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Assuming you got injured by a demon or someone else, on the outside, he is extremely angry at you, at himself, at the person or demon who hurt you and angry at how the bandages are getting soaked with your blood way to quickly. He appears to be at least a little calm, probably to keep you calm in return.

If you accidentally cut yourself or hurt yourself on accident in any other way, Sanemi will be just as angry. He’ll scold and flick your forehead, telling you to be more careful. But if you shed a tear or cry, he’ll immediately switch up and try to awkwardly comfort you with some head-pats and kisses, not exactly sure what else to do to console you.

—

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Sanemi, during his hashira years, doesn’t really prank or joke around with you. He doesn’t really see the point of deliberately pulling pranks.

After retiring and being a calmer person overall, maybe Sanemi’ll try and scare you with one of his beetles or trying to annoy you jokingly on purpose more and more.

—

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?

(I actually made a whole post on how the hashira kiss. Check it out over here!)

—

L = Love Confession (how'd they confess to you? how'd you get together?)

Kyojuro pointed out how squirmy and nervous Sanemi would seem to get whenever you come around, similar to how Genya freezes up whenever any girl comes near. Perhaps his older brother is similar like that with a person he really likes, the flame hashira noted.

Sanemi denied it with all his life, but the increasing blush on his face gave him away. That’s how you found out.

—

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Sanemi’s favourite memory is probably the first day and night you’ve spend together after retiring together into a nice home, somewhere peaceful in Japan.

No demons, no missions to leave for in the middle of the night. The worst of your worries will be if the vendors will have some good salmon tomorrow. Sanemi didn’t sleep one minute that night though, instead taking his time to admire you in your sleep, his fingers brushing over your cheeks and through your hair.

The following day, you two didn’t so anything really special. You two were simply domestic, like a couple that has been married for years and now is living a boring, normal life. It’s better than anything Sanemi ever could’ve imagined. You spend your morning cooking breakfast and eating together, in the noon went out for groceries, went to meet with Tanjiro, Giyuu and the others, before heading back home to hang out in the garden and watch the sun set, arm in arm.

The perfect memory.

—

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Simple: loosing you for good. Either by sickness, upsetting you, breaking up or you dying.

If you storm out after an argument, Sanemi will sit and wait for you to come back, silently panicking about if you’re even going to come back to him or leaving him.

Once you come back, you’re probably going to be a little confused at how Sanemi was sitting in the dark with bloodshot eyes from the lack of blinking, asking if you’re going to to pack your things and go.

You two just argued over picking laundry up from the floor though…?

—

O = Obvious (how obvious do they make it that they like you?)

It’s obvious to everyone but himself. Sanemi at you dreamily when you’re not looking, only to snap his neck away the second you turn, thinking you didn’t notice his face heating up. He thinks he’s smooth with trying to admire you, but he never is.

You tease him about it sometimes how his hands search for your body to hold close to him and in return Sanemi will try to not make it as obvious but he can’t stop himself. Your cheek needs kissing, your thigh holding and your face to be stared at. It’s a full-time job.

—

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

He prefers calling you the classics like 'hun', 'honey' and 'darling', but Sanemi also likes using things like 'blossom' or 'sunshine'. The sunshine petname he uses a bit teasingly, mostly when you are a little more gloomy and in a bad mood. It most of the time puts you into an even worse mood, but he hasn’t noticed that yet.

—

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?

There are many things he likes to do with you. If you’re up for it, you and Sanemi could train together, even though he does go easy on you when you do. If not, he’s content to curl up and cuddle with you in the bedroom.

Perhaps you two could cook something together, you can help taking care of his beetles with him and he could introduce you to them personally, maybe take you out on a small date… There’s no favourite amongst those activities he could do with you.

—

R = Romance (how romantic are they?)

He tries his best to be but it’s hard. Sanemi just doesn’t really know how to be romantic— he never had an example to go on.

Although Tengen lend him some good books to go on and get inspiration from. Just give him a week. Or a month. Maybe a year. He is still trying to learn how to read first.

—

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

You know everything about Sanemi at this point. He is very open with you and you know his past, but it took a lot of effort to get there. Many nights with his head in your lap and your fingers slowly stroking through his hair while his eyes glossed over your face, his hands awkwardly wrapped around his own body in an attempt to comfort himself.

He doesn’t like speaking about things that make him feel vulnerable, which is practically everything. But Sanemi knew he had to open up to you at some point, and that final stroke through his soft hair did it for him.

—

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

After meeting you, it took him around a year to start falling for you and another year to allow himself to feel those feelings, so it took Sanemi a second or two to get over himself and confess his feelings to you.

Overall, it took around two, almost three years to confess.

—

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? do they like to show you off?)

He doesn’t show you off in a way that comes across as someone trying to flaunt how gorgeous/handsome or hot his partner is, rather he shows you off to show to others that someone was willing to love him as much he loves them.

Some of the hashira didn’t believe he had a partner in the first place and he does feel pride swell up in his stomach whenever Sanemi brings you anywhere (and he does bring you everywhere)

—

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Assuming you’re a demon slayer or hashira, Sanemi would both need to go on missions with you to make sure he is there to protect and keep an eye on you, but on the other side, Sanemi would hate to do so.

Instead of killing demons and saving civilians, he’d be too focused on making sure you don’t get hurt, which could end up in you two arguing about you needing space and him just trying to keep you safe, so it would be better if you two didn’t.

But training together seems to be going fine, if you ignore all the sexual tension that has been building and getting hotter every time someone flips the other around and straddles the other.

—

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

It depends, because Sanemi can read your face and immediately provide whatever you’re thinking of, may it be that new yukata you eyed while strolling through the market and still thinking about, he already bought it for you.

On the other hand, it takes him a minute to find out why you got upset about something and almost always assumes it’s because he did something wrong in some way, which it sometimes is but not all of the time. He tries his best, though.

—

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

(Again, I actually wrote something for this in full length! It may be a little old and outdated but still good! Check it out over here!)

—

Z = Zzz (how do they act when they're sleepy? what's it like sharing a bed with them?)

Similar to C = Cuddle, Sanemi is a cuddle bug. He needs something to latch onto and hold, or something needs to hold him. Preferably it would be you but a pillow is fine too.

When Sanemi gets sleepy, he gets a little grouchy. He would hug you from behind and bury his face in your neck, complaining and groaning about how you should finally come to bed (because he never goes to bed first and not without you), before lifting you off your feet himself and carrying you to bed with him.

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

I think working on my Douma cosplay and the con I’m attending approaching Demon Slayer has been clawing at my brain— But also *sigh*, Lucanis Dellamorte. But also *sigh* Douma, *sigh* Sanemi, *sigh* so many more sighs

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Tame care of yourselves <33

[tbaluver]

Valentine's Day- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader summary: what they get you for valentine's day and what their date with you would be! tags: fluff fluff + very corny and cheesy a/n: hihi my lovelies! so fun fact i actually really fawking hate this holiday but i wanted to do something for my readers so here are my flowers for you all this holiday (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ i wrote this after the banner trailer came out bc i lowkey wanted something romantic ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ ) and special thanks you to my beta readers, @ilovemitsuya and @deusfoundry mwah ! enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Linkon City had been preparing for Valentine’s day. It was everywhere, from grocery stores, cafes, malls, you couldn’t escape it. He noticed the way you’d eye some of the products so he asked you about it. Before he would always brush off a lot of holidays but the moment you mentioned it was a day where couples celebrate it together made him think of what he could do for you.

Be Mine? He doesn’t really ask you because he didn’t know he had too. Instead, he calls you to let you know he was at your door. Once you opened it, you couldn’t see his face but two large bouquets blocking his view and a soft voice behind the bouquet saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

His Gift: ‘How can i get her a planet?’ Unfortunately he’d have to opt for something smaller for now. He originally planned to give you a bouquet of your favorite flowers until he saw an idea online where you can create a bouquet of snacks and plushies. So, he gets you the best of both worlds. He carefully chooses your favorite flowers, picking plushies of your favorite characters and animals and makes sure to include all your favorite snacks too. He gently wraps the bouquet of flowers before working on the second bouquet, carefully placing each one to look presentable.

The Date: He’d take you to a quiet hilltop for a nightly picnic, it was one of the perfect spots to watch the stars and the moon. As you both settle down on the blanket, he'll let you enjoy your meal while Xavier sets up the telescope, carefully adjusting it to show you the planet he’d told you about, shifting it slightly to reveal a bright shiny star, the smaller gift he’d decided to get instead. He’d explain to you that he named that star for you, one out of millions that he plans to name more of.

Zayne:

Zayne has never asked anyone to be his Valentines, let alone spend the day with anyone. But ever since you two got together, he’s wanted to make sure he spends at least every holiday with someone he loves, you.

Be Mine? Since he has to leave early for work, Zayne would slip out of bed, careful not to wake you. He’d quietly leave a small, fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers that would be accompanied by a note, “For my love, always.” Later during his break, he makes sure to call you to make sure you don’t feel completely alone on the holidays and also because he misses you and how eager he is to come home to you.

His Gift: Zayne would carefully arrange the items he’d gotten you in a little cute box/ basket, filling it with your favorite things. There would be a TON of self care items. A blanket and comfy slippers so you won’t be cold whenever he’s not around. Matching mugs to drink together from morning to night. Bath bombs, candles, face masks and lotion to pamper you after a long day. Along with that, he’d tuck in your favorite snacks or sweets and beside the basket would a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers. He’d also remember that it was tradition to write your lover a letter on the holiday, so he’d make sure to write you a heartfelt letter of his love and appreciation for you.

The Date: This depends if you two were introverted that day or if he was feeling more introverted than you. If neither of you two weren’t, then he’d reserve a spot for you both to a classy restaurant, checking beforehand the reviews and if the menu has foods that you’d love. However if you two want a cozy night in, then you’d have a date at home. You’d cook together, some recipes taking longer so you guys bake in the meantime. Zayne would insist on adding an alarming amount of sugar on his, so you’d have to make separate pans. Once you both were full with your meal and if you weren’t tired yet, he’d invite you out for a nice scenic walk. He’d hold your hand the entire time, slipping them both into his pocket to keep yours warm.

Rafayel:

Rafayel doesn’t really get why humans need a specific day to celebrate their love and devotion to their partner when it should be something they do every day. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to skip out on spending this holiday with you, no holiday would ever make him love you any more or less than he already does.

Be Mine? He led you to a quiet and private spot on the beach, away from anyone. He would have “Be mine?” spelled out on the sand, decorated with pretty seashells to make the question pop more. His gaze is fixed on you as he waits for a response- even though you’ve been together for so long.

His Gift: A couple of Rafayel’s gifts were handmade, they were made way before the holiday came up and it was the perfect day to give it to you. He’d give you beautifully crafted heartfelt letters that spoke about how much he adored and cherished each second you spent together. Another one of his gifts would be a sketchbook, each page filled with detailed drawings, paintings, and even sketches that related to you. Each page would have little notes about how he needs to perfect your smile or how  your eyes light up whenever you were happy. His last gift for you would be matching jewelry that is related to the holiday.

The Date: Rafayel would take you on a small boat ride to a hidden beach that’s only accessible by boat. When you both get there, there would be a picnic waiting for you and a small bonfire nearby. Your favorite foods, snacks, and a bottle of wine are laid out between you. He’d have sketchbooks ready for you both, taking turns drawing each other. He’d try to be nice when you’d draw him a little unique. Between sketches, he’d pull out his camera, capturing little candid moments of you. A smile tugs at his lips when he’d capture how you’d smile and laugh as you draw another unique sketch before you show him or the way the fire gives you such a warm and soft glow.

Sylus:

Sylus had been quiet about Valentine’s Day, the holiday slowly catching up. It was unlike him since you two planned a lot of things together but what you didn’t know was that he’d been playing a surprise, secretly ordering your gifts and decoration online before the day came.

Be Mine? You jolted awake by a loud tap by your window, relentless caws by Mephisto when he sees you up. Groggily you drag yourself out of bed, flinging open to see Mephisto wearing a red bow tie but before you could process what was happening, he flew away, leaving you blinking in confusion. Your eyes shifted downward, and there was Sylus leaning against his motorcycle, a playful smile tugging at his lips while he held a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers and one of your presents on the other hand.

His Gift: A small getaway to another city to somewhere you've planned on visiting. His plan would be spending the evening over a romantic dinner with a new and beautiful view. You two would stay there for a few nights or maybe even more, he doesn't mind extending the trip there, giving you plenty of time to explore the places you've wanted to experience together. When you unwrap the present in his hand, you’d find the dress you had your eye on a week ago and pieces of jewelry that perfectly complemented both you and your dress.

The Date: Once you two step off his private plane, he’d guide you to the car waiting to take you to an exclusive restaurant. He would reserve a private dining area so you two can enjoy each other’s company without interruption. The view from your seat alone was beautiful but Sylus wasn’t looking at the scenery, his eyes were always focused on you. Once you two were done with dinner, he’d take you out on a walk that was much closer to the view you two had during the dinner. He’d guide you to a reserved garden, one that he arranged weeks before. Your favorite flowers were arranged in clusters to make the garden pop out more. Neatly trimmed bushes lined the pathway and a couple of them were shaped into pairs of animals that symbolized you both, nestled together and some were heart shaped to represent the holiday.

Caleb:

Caleb hasn’t really spent Valentine’s Day with you properly, even when you were kids. Instead, he spent the entire time pushing away anyone who tried to give you anything or throwing out confession letters, flowers, chocolates, and candies from anyone who offered them to you. It was like that every year. By the time he could’ve asked you to be his Valentine’s, it was already too late. One of the memories he has of that night is giving you chocolates he had originally planned to give you, pretending they were pity gifts, as if no guy tried to give you anything. But now you two are grown and he has you all to himself, letting him celebrate this holiday with you properly.

Be Mine? You woke up to the delicious smell of breakfast calling your name and found Caleb in the kitchen, his back to you as he finished preparing his meal. On the counter was your favorite breakfast and beside it was a bouquet of flowers and a note written 'Be Mine?' He pretends he didn’t hear your footsteps padding behind him, a smile curling on his lips when he feels your arms wrap around him. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

His Gift: Even though he’d gotten you your favorite flowers in the morning, Caleb would surprise you with a box of Lego flowers so you’d have forever flowers to display on your desk or nightstand. He’ll also probably get you something silly like a magnetic necklace/ bracelet that you could wear or even magnetic socks so whenever you two were almost skin and skin, you two can be even more connected. And of course, he’d make his custom made love coupons that don’t expire for a hundred years.

The Date: He wants to spend the holiday, just like any other day, alone with you. If you were a picky eater, he’d make sure to cook all your favorite foods but if you weren’t, he’d look up some new recipes that have ingredients he knows you’d love. He’d also try to shape anything he can with hearts or maybe even a rose for the holiday. Eventually you two can build the lego(s) he’d gotten you and play a few board games for couples, letting you win most of them just so he can see your smile and hear your laugh.